More Than Just Ordinary
by EverlyYours
Summary: Like ordinary stories, there's a beginning, a start to it all. A middle where everything falls into place. Then an ending where everything wraps up in a perfect bow. But not everything is perfect; Bella Swan's story is more than just ordinary. Very OOC.
1. Prologue

**Summary: Like ordinary stories, there's a beginning, a start to it all. A middle where everything falls into place. Then an ending where everything wraps up in a perfect bow. But not everything is perfect; Bella Swan's story is more than just ordinary. All Human.**

**Warning: Dark Themes. But no Lemons. **

**AN: Oookay, so this is the new version of These Thin Walls. I'm playing things out differently so please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**Prologue.**

**Third Person POV. **

"Miss Swan?" A distant voice of her teacher called out. "Are you paying attention?"

The girl with dull eyes and pale skin stared at her teacher. "Yes."

He cleared his throat, a little edgy under her lifeless glare. "Would you care contribute on the chosen topic?"

Her class was having debates and discussions on chosen topics; it was supposed to 'open their mind to possibilities' and 'help develop their creativity skills.' As far as Bella was concerned, it was another way love had twisted its way into her life yet again. Just to watch her suffer under its grasp.

"I'd rather not." She whispered painfully.

The professor's eyebrows popped up, staring at her doubtfully. "Would anyone care to help her out?"

A girl in the back cleared her throat. "Love," She announced. "Is a blessing. It's beautiful. Someone who lives without love cannot call what they have a life. A life – in order to be called a life – must have meaning. Love brings that meaning into their lives. Why live if you have nothing to live for?"

_Yes why?_ Bella thought to herself. The words touching closer to her heart than expected.

"Anyone care to disagree?" He yelled out, and the class remained silent.

"I disagree." Bella said her voice cracking. She looked up and met her professor's eyes. "No one knows what love is."

"Miss Weber seems to differ." He said.

"No one knows how it happens, why, where, and when. No one can put a time limit, nor can anyone control it. Love can slip through the heavily guarded walls and find your weakness." She said, memories danced inside her head. Memories she didn't want to see. "It stabs you were it knows it hurts the most. Where it knows you will cave, so once you're on your knees, its torture begins."

She turned slightly to stare Angela in the eye. "You said love is beautiful, it's a blessing. Tell me, do heartaches, crying, and hurting give you the impression of beauty? Do betrayal, hate, pain, and vengeance suggest blessings?" Angela remained silence, her mouth opened slightly. "Love is not beautiful nor is it a blessing."

Angela seemed to be shaken out of her daze and bounced back. "Love brings meaning into lives. It weaves beauty. When you're in love everything seems as if it's okay. Love brings security."

"And when it ends, what then?" She shot back.

"It doesn't end. Love never ends. It's a never-ending concept that keeps –"

"Everything has an end." Bella said bitterly. "If there's a beginning, there's always an end. Always."

The venom in her voice kept Angela silent, biting her tongue.

The professor beamed, ecstatic at his student's interactions.

"Miss Swam, if love is neither beauty nor a blessing, what is it?" He encouraged, knowing she'd remain silent afterwards. Just like always.

"A curse." She said confidently, and then said more quietly. "A curse most of us undertake."

"Care to deliberate?"

"It possesses us, makes us believe the simplest lie, it controls our senses until we cannot tell up from down, or right from wrong. It wipes away our very beliefs, and makes us feel us if nothing could possible go wrong. During that time, while we are unaware, it latches itself to our hearts, wrapping around us as if venom. Coursing through our very soul, dripping in our blood. Until we become one." She swallowed loudly, pain shooting up her throat, choking her.

"Then," She continued, her voice but a whisper. "As you are at your highest peak, the very top to the tower the love has built. It crumbles. It falls and rips itself away from you. Leaving scars that can't be healed and memories that can't be erased. Memories that haunt you, taunting you with what you have lost. You're shattered, broken, wrecked; damaged. And as the love leaves you, it searches for its new victim. The pour soul it will take next. And so, the chain continues." She stared into the eyes of her peers.

They all judged her; all their eyes screamed the same thing. She wanted to prove them wrong; she wanted to show them what hid beneath her façade. But she couldn't because they were right about one thing: she was a coward.

"That is love." She concluded.

The professor broke into applause, his grimy face grinning. "Very good! Passion, meaningful, fervour. _That's_ what I'm looking for."

"I still disagree." Angela murmured.

"And what's your resource?" Bella snapped. "Freaking Nicholas Spark novels? Old sappy movies?"

"So what if it is?" She shrieked, tears blinding her eyes. The loss of their friendship nipping at Angela's heart. "What your source? Some horror movie? Light up for God's sake." Tears coursed down her cheeks. "I miss you."

Bella felt invisible tears course down her own cheek, but she knew none would truly come.

"Angela has a very good point." The professor interjected. "What is your source Bella?"

She glared at them all. She gathered her books and shoved them in her bag angrily and ran towards the door.

"Experience." She said bitterly as she threw the door open.

She shut the door behind her, drowning out her teacher's voice. Drowning out Angela's pleas, drowning out that persistent velvety voice inside her head. Drowning out the world.

Once inside the safety of her car she allowed the tears to fall. She allowed herself to cry over everything she lost. Her friends, her grades, her job, her integrity, her dignity, but most of all, her life. She allowed dangerous memories to play inside her head.

"_Bella." Her mother's voice sighed. "Wear some color would you? Black drains you out. You always looked so beautiful in blue."_

"Look Ma,"_ She wanted to say. _"Look at my back, there's blue there. Look at my thighs, there's blue there too. I'm blue all over._"_

_But she did not. She did not dare say those words to anyone. Pain is worse, when it is silent. _

A new memory played in her head, and along with it, brought hysterics.

"_Come on Bella." Alice pleaded. "Go out with us tonight."_

"_I can't." She lied. "I have millions of homework to do."_

"_No you don't." She glared. "I called Angela, she's coming tonight too. There's no getting out of this."_

"_I don't want to go."_

"_You're going."_

"_You can't make me."_

"_Oh to Hell I can."_

"_Why can't you just live me alone?!"_

"_Because I'm your friend." She whispered. "At least I thought I was. What's happening to you Bella?"_

_What is happening?_

Bella knew where everything had gotten her. She knew that her friends no longer cared about her. They no longer reminisced or even attempted to remember. They were far pass that point now. She was just another painful memory that'll continue to haunt them. Just as his memories haunted her.

_Why live if you have nothing to live for?_

Angela's words rang in her head. Why? Her life held no meaning, so why is she breathing to this day? She had no answer to the question. Maybe it was the fear of death. Or maybe…it was the fear of living.

But like all stories, there is a beginning. A start to everything. You see, she wasn't always like this. This is Isabella Swan's story:

**AN: Well…there you go. This is only the Prologue. Review and give me your opinion. Continue or not to continue?**


	2. New Neighbour

**Summary: Like ordinary stories, there's a beginning, a start to it all. A middle where everything falls into place. Then an ending where everything wraps up in a perfect bow. But not everything is perfect; Bella Swan's story is more than just ordinary. All Human. Very, very OOC. **

**Warning: Dark Themes. But no Lemons. **

**AN: Thanks to those who reviewed, I appreciated your opinion. Thank you to all those who put me on story alert; I look forward to continuing this story with you. Remember, Forks if not just a little teeny weety town, think of it like a city, it would make more sense. Enjoy the chapter! **

**Disclaimer: Not my characters – but I do own the plot.**

**Chapter One: **

**Third Person POV.**

Do you believe in miracles?

Some magical coincidence that changes your life forever, a force that cannot be confined or labelled. You can never ask for a miracle, or it will never come. They come on their own, their own acts, their own instinct. They come at a time of hopelessness, or so they say. But sometimes miracles occur without any notice. Sometimes you could think you have everything you ever possibly needed, yet one comes along and proves you all wrong. Knocking down your walls, tearing down your gates, and destroying your beliefs. But sometimes, miracles can be curses too. They deceive you and trick you into believing them. Miracles are not always so pure. Like many, they have two sides to them. A sinister, darker, side. You can never tell the good from evil, only time can tell. You have to wait, wait in that torturous silence with the anticipation dragging you down. You wait for it to pass, then, when it reaches its end. You will know. Look at yourself, and what do you see? Destruction or success?

Bella Swan never believed in such a thing. She believed that everything happens because it does. Not by the excitement of the moment, or the adrenaline rush. She believed that what happens, happens because it's what's supposed to. There was no such thing as _miracles,_ or luck of chance. Simply the laws of the world. You cannot change or alter anything. You live your life, the challenges that come, the opportunities given, and the things lost, all happened because they must. At least, that's what Bella thought.

But you see, all it takes for one's beliefs to crumble – in Bella's case – is the young man who stumbled into the apartment next to hers. The man with the bronze hair and the crooked smile. Little did they know that a miracle was taking place then. The moment his foot took the first step into his new home, it all began there. Now the question that remains is: destruction or success? That still remains unknown, because their story is only beginning. The pieces start to form now. But will they hold together?

The young man shut the door behind him, the door refusing to close without a fighting death, moaned in protest. With a huff, he managed to ram the door shut, lock it, and slowly fall to the ground. He sighed in frustration and slumped against the door. He ran a hand through his tussled hair and shut his eyes, trying to ignore that throbbing headache he had. Moving days were always crappy.

_But,_ he thought, _nothing is as crappy as this apartment._

He looked around him, and winced as he did so. Paint was peeling off the walls, the floors creaked as he pulled himself to his feet, and a draft flew through the room. Suddenly a loud _boom _erupted, causing him to jump in surprised. Followed by a loud cry of irritation.

_Eerie,_ he thought. He shuddered involuntarily, and began to brush off the dust that stuck to him when he sat.

_Well,_ he sighed again, _welcome home, Mr. Masen. _

In the neighbouring apartment Bella Swan groaned and pounded against the door to her apartment. "Ugh!" She exclaimed and gave one final push and the door flew open, causing her to tumble to the ground. The books from her bag flew out and scattered around her, her essay papers fluttering in the air, like large snowflakes.

"Ow," She muttered and pushed herself off the ground, dusting herself off. She glared at the door as she began to pick up her mess. "Damn door."

She kicked the door shut and locked it furiously, stomping towards her bedroom. She threw her stuff on her bed and ran her hand through her brown hair. She shut her eyes and massaged her temple. Today had been a horrible day for her. The loud lectures, the snotty remarks, the constant ringing of her cell phone. She wished the world would just _shut the hell up. _Outside her window she heard a serine from a police car scream as it whizzed past and she groaned, shutting her eyes tighter.

_I need Advil._ She thought and started off towards the kitchen. She stood on her toes and reached to the box that sat on the top of the shelf. She huffed as her figure tips only barely reached the top of the box.

_Shorty,_ she knew Emmett would call her if he were there. But then again, there was always Alice. Four feet and eleven inches of hype. Bella smiled at the thought but then turned her concentration back to her task. She stood on her toes again, her brow furrowed with concentration. With another failed attempt she gave up and sighed.

She jumped up onto the counter and held on the side of the cupboard, reaching up to shelf. She had just got her hand tightly around the box, with a victorious smile on her face when a loud _bang_ echoed through her apartment.

She screamed in surprise and lost her balance. Falling to the ground, the box tumbling with her, she realized she was having a _very bad day._

"Gah!" She yelled in irritation, rubbing her sore back. She stood and twisted herself around and noticed a bruise beginning to form on her lower back.

_Great!_ She thought sarcastically. She angrily took the pills and sauntered into her bedroom. She collapsed into her bed and shut her eyes, too tired to change her clothes or brush her teeth. She melted into her bed with a content sigh, a peaceful smile forming slowly on her lips.

Her mind swam with the lecture her professor had given early today. She was currently attending Forks Washington University, all under scholarship of course. Majoring in English Literature, she found stories fascinating, writing even more. She didn't want to admit it, but she had an especially soft spot for her professor Mr. Banner, and his hectic, vibrant, and quizzical personality. She didn't know many people in her class, except for one. Angela Weber. Bella absolutely adored Angela. Her quiet, easy-going, timid ways, resembled an alternative to the crazy world around her. She felt calmer when she spoke with Angela for some reason.

As she shut her eyes she reminisced of the events of the earlier day…

"_Ooookay," Mr. Banner dragged out the word. "Let's try something different. No more lectures for now."_

_The class sighed with relief, a few even cheered. Bella rolled her eyes at their immaturity. Mr. Banner walked over to his desk. Bent down and pulled out large files. He then went to the center of the room, and waited for all their attention._

"_I will show you pictures and I want you to yell out the feeling that you see. Depression, segregation, anguish, manipulation, mirth, elation, it's your choice."_

_Without warning he flashed the first picture. It was a picture of a stable, a wide, endless grass plain, devoured over the fields, a single tree stood in the center. The picture was bright, and cheerful, but Bella saw otherwise. Her eye kept falling upon the single tree. Its large branches and looming shadow. Alone in the middle of the beautiful field. Others would have admired the beautiful sky, or the flowers, Bella only saw the lonely tree. _

"_Optimism." A girl said._

"_Clarity." Said another._

"_Simplicity." _

"_Hopelessness." Bella mumbled. _

_Mr. Banner thought he heard wrong. "I'm sorry Miss. Swan?"_

_Bella cleared her throat. "Hopelessness."_

"_Why is that?" He asked; a smile forming on his face._

_People stared at her as if she were crazy. Cleary the picture was joyous, the bright atmosphere, clear sky, beautiful colors, yet this girl claimed it was the exact opposite. Surely there was something wrong with her. _

"_I think," She said, her voice slightly shaking. "The single tree, it represents isolation and loneliness. The bright colors represent life."_

"_So what's your conclusion?" He urged._

_She dropped her eyes, and her eyebrows furrowed. "That, maybe, you could live in a world so beautiful, but feel so hideously alone."_

_People scoffed and others rolled their eyes, but Mr. Banner smiled brighter. _

Finally,_ he thought, _a breakthrough.

"_Very good, Miss. Swan." He praised and nodded at her; she smiled softly and thanked him. He wanted back to flashing pictures and soon everyone had forgotten Bella had even spoken. The words were simply blurs in Mr. Banner's ears, because all he could hear was Bella's soft words. The truth, in which only few could identify. He knew, that this would be an interesting term. _

A loud sound filled the room.

Her eyes snapped open and instantly she fell out of her memory and back into reality. _Thump, thump, thump._

She sat up and squinted in the dark. Was she imagining it? Maybe it was her head, or maybe it was her heart, all possibilities she considered. _Thump, thump…_She waited for the last one. _Thump._

She knew then, it was not from her, but rather from another source. She put her hands over her ears and tried to drain out the loud thumping.

_Thump, thump, thump._

"Damn it!" She hissed and she rubbed her eyes, dark circles forming under her eyes. "Its 12:34 at night, what the hell is going on?"

Her eyes fell to the wall behind her bed. _Thump, thump, thump._ It began to get on her nerves and she gritted her teeth. She then remembered that her neighbour had moved out, she wondered what anyone could possibly be doing in that apartment. _Wonderful,_ she sardonically thought, _new neighbour, exactly what I need. _

Another bang rang through her bedroom and she held the pillow down on her head, trying to drown out the noise.

_Who moves in at the middle of the night?_ She wondered angrily.

She placed another pillow on top of the first and tried her best to fall asleep in the middle of the loud banging noises. She wondered why the world was so noisy. Coming up with nothing she sighed and tried to ignore the noise.

_What is their problem?_ She thought. Little did she know that the man who lay on the other side of the wall would bring her more problems than she'd ever endured.

Edward already hated his new place. The loud banging continued to stubbornly grow louder. He groaned and covered his ears, burying his face under the covers of his bed, praying for the noise to go away. But of course it didn't, he wondered what kind of evil could be the source of this midnight awakening. He groaned again when he realized that that person was his neighbour.

He's never been one for neighbours. It wasn't because he was ignorant or because he was shy. He simply loathed them. He got this all from experience, of course.

He could see it now. He imagined what kind of neighbour he had. He shuddered at the thought of it. Surely they must be in the same position he was in, since they lived in the same revolting building. Loss of money. He ran his fingers through his hair and prayed it wasn't some absurd pathetic person like his old neighbour.

_Ms. Willis. _He shuddered at the thought of the name. Revolting through him like a deadly disease. She was in her late forties, and very, very, scary. She had multiple cats, and he wondered if that was even legal. They all stared at him every time, with their piercing yellow eyes and eerie threatening smile. As if they were all planning of killing him while he slept next door. He shuddered again at the memory, a time he did not want to repeat. He hoped his neighbour would be at least the slightest bit better, hopefully no cats. He couldn't stand those things.

Soon, after a lot of tossing and turning, both Edward and Bella fell asleep on opposite sides of the wall. Both dreaming of what their neighbour could possibly look like. Bella imagined an old man with no teeth and wrinkled skin. Not your friendly neighbourhood mailman sort of thing, rather the molester next door. Look at the dump she lived in, surely it attracted nut cases. Edward dreamed of being attacked by fifty cats all at once, set off by their owner. The lady next door just grinned wickedly and cooed at her little cats, they clawed at him and bit him. He tried to throw them off, but once he did she fed him her chicken soup, and he instantly began gagging.

They were in for a surprise of their life.

---

The next morning Edward awoke with a stiff neck and bags under his eyes. He yawned and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He ran his fingers through his messy hair and looked out the window. The weather was the same as usual, the dark gray clouds sitting above their heads. He shook his head in attempt to shake of the drowsiness and stood quickly, stretching his sore muscles. He looked around the room, glaring at the boxes that remained to be unloaded. He knew he should start working on them but instead he treaded off to the kitchen.

His stomach growled and he open his fridge to find only, two lemons, a box of baking soda, and water staring back at him. He realised then that he never had gotten the chance to buy groceries. He cursed under his breath as he stomped towards his closet to get ready.

_This can't get worse._ He thought grudgingly, and yawned again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the walls, Bella was up and about. Running through her apartment with as much grace she could manage. Which, knowing her, was very little due to the fact she kept tripping over air, and colliding into her furniture. She pulled her hair up into a messy bun and grabbed her laptop, stuffing it into its bag. She grabbed a water bottle, jugging it down, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She looked in the mirror and found a tired, sleepy-eyed, Bella staring back at her. She sighed and concluded that it would have to do for today. She grabbed the rest of her books, her phone, and her music and she ran out the door. Locking it furiously, dropping her keys twice, she managed to get out the door. She huffed and blew a strand of hair out of her face. She checked her watch and realized she was ten minutes late. She raced down the hallway, barley even hearing the loud door of her neighbour behind her.

She pushed the door open and was met by a large gust of wind; she squinted and persisted to make her way to where she parked her car. She shoved the key into the lock and threw her door open, throwing her stuff in the seat next to her. She started the car quickly, and it growled and roared in fury. She shivered slightly at the cold and reached for the heater, she paused when she realized it had broken. Shaking her head and she backed out of her parking spot.

Suddenly a silver Volvo spun out of nowhere, causing her to jam on her brakes. The car twisted out the way with a screech, missing her bumper by inches. She groaned furiously and glared at the driver. Hoping he would see it through his little tinted windows. The car revved forward with a screech and turned into the road and continued to drive recklessly. Bella shook her head in anger and glared.

"People these days," She muttered irritably. She backed out again and made her way to the road and crossed her fingers hoping that she wouldn't get in too much trouble.

She reached diner after a quick drive and ran out the car. She noticed that the car who almost hit her was also parked a few spaces down from her. Before she could give the driver a piece of her mind she concluded that work was more important than teaching another idiot how to drive. So saw the door open but didn't see anymore because she threw herself inside the diner. She was instantly met with Emily's angry face.

"You're late." She said and tossed her a notepad and pen. "Get to work, there are five tables already waiting."

"Sorry," She muttered and began to take people's orders. Putting the best smile she could manage on her face.

Just then, Edward entered the diner, looking around he was seated quickly at a booth. He noticed that the place was not high class, nor was it too ratty. Families were laughing; couples were talking, the typical day of Forks. He sat there and placed his head in his hands, the adrenaline still yet to be wiped from the almost collision he had before.

_Stupid red trucks._ He thought and shook his head. The nerve of the driver, to back out so recklessly without even a second glance. The car already looked like it had its share of crashes, all torn up and scratched. He sighed and he heard footsteps approach.

"Hi, may I take your order?" A female voice asked him. He looked up and found a brunette with a notebook in hand staring at him. She had chocolate brown eyes that widened when he glanced at her.

"You," She accused, glaring at him. He was baffled and wondered what her problem was. "You're the one that almost wrecked my car!"

**AN: Hmm, so I'm still deciding what I'm going to do with Edward. I always find Doctor Edward very smexy. Any suggestions on a profession? Keep in mind, he's broke. Hahah! Please review. Ay, did you notice that _stupid red trucks _remark? Hehe, a contrast to the stupid shiny volvo owner, huh? **

**Song for this chapter: He's Everything You Want – 3 Doors Down  
**_"Now you're here and you don't know why. But under skinned knees and the skid marks, past the places where you used to learn, you howl and listen. Listen and wait for the echoes of angels who won't return."_


	3. My Beautiful Swoon

**Summary: Like ordinary stories, there's a beginning, a start to it all. A middle where everything falls into place. Then an ending where everything wraps up in a perfect bow. But not everything is perfect; Bella Swan's story is more than just ordinary. All Human. Very, very OOC. **

**Warning: Dark Themes. But no Lemons. **

**AN: Thank you all for reviewing, all are truly appreciated. In case of further confusion, the very, very first chapter to this story is a PROLOGUE it is not the first chapter. **

**Bella, Alice, Emmett: Senior year College, 22.**

**Edward, Jasper, Rosalie: 23. – Graduated. **

**Disclaimer: Stephenie owns Twilight.**

**Previously….**

"_You," She accused, glaring at him. He was baffled and wondered what her problem was. "You're the one that almost wrecked my car!"_

**Chapter Two **

**Third Person POV**

_Isabella Swan, aspiring writer. Isabella Swan, daughter of Charlie Swan, Chief of Police. Isabella Swan, daughter of Renee Dwyer. Isabella Swan, waitress. Isabella Swan, avid reader. Isabella Swan, volunteer. Isabella Swan, best friend of –_

Isabella Swan groaned in agony and placed her head on the cool table. Her hand clenched around her pen and she glared at her assignment. She realized then, that she was given the most irritating name a child could be bestowed with. What other titles could she take on? She massaged her temple and attempted to slow her breathing.

_A waste of time _is what she thought of this. A waste of her effort, of her talent. Mr. Banner had insisted that this had value, but she was still yet to find any. _Look past responsibility and find the hidden meanings, _he had said to his class. Gritting her teeth, she attempted once more.

_Isabella Swan, best friend of Alice Cullen. Isabella Swan, best friend of Rosalie Hale. Isabella Swan, best friend of Emmett McCarty. Isabella Swan, bored out of her mind._

She laughed in spite of herself, and crossed out the last line. She bit her lip and tapped her pen on the table. She wondered really, how many titles a person can possess. She shut her eyes and tried to find ground again. Tension hibernated upon her shoulders, stress weaving into her hair. She shut her eyes more tightly; praying that she would never have to open them.

She then found herself swimming through her earlier events. Her mind drifting towards that bronze haired man who pushed her to her last nerve. Taunting her until she stood at the edge of sanity. She hated how his eyes were the purest of green, and how his voice was deep and mysterious. The way he insisted upon her to apologize, faulting her in their situation_. _

She shook her head at the thought. _Arrogance is contagious these days, _she thought. Things piled upon her shoulders, and she was tempted to cave under the weight, but she refused to give victory to that complete stranger. Why should she care?

Life brings people your way, who – some worse than others – will not agree with you, understand you, or simply hate you beyond any reason. There is really no explanation for this concept. Simply that: people are cruel only when they lack fidelity. The ability to have faith, to have hope in someone. _To believe. _

She remembered the way his green eyes narrowed as he spoke, and his lips turned down in a slight frown. The way she snapped at him and stormed off. Emily laughing slightly when she asked what had happened. Then telling her seriously she'd lose her job if she were to do anything rash. But of course, Bella had better control than that. She served his coffee in silence, learning in the process that he liked it black. She gave him the cheque along with a strained smile. And so, she went on with her life.

When she had talked to him; unknowingly her walls went up. Forming a barrier that came automatically. She is never aware when things type of things occur, when she takes that unnecessary step back, she never realizes that then too, her past is catching up with her.

How far does the legacy of brokenness reach up to? Intertwining into lives of millions. In cold truth, it is that incompleteness that binds us all together. But, surely, there is a virtue within the midst of this horridness. Pain can bring understanding. Simply because we have all dealt with pain, felt it blows, so as the natural cycle continues, we recover. Our wounds stitch shut but never really disappear. It is then, that we are able to present those wounds to people, and have them touch it with warm and tender hands, just because we have once been in that position.

She squirmed in her chair and leaned on her arm, unconsciously making her sleeve roll up, revealing a long scar from her wrist to her elbow. Not at all noticeable at a first glance, rather a pale line that marked her arm. She shoved her sleeve down again, until it covered her hand.

It churned her stomach, and her heart jumped into her throat. She wanted to forget her past. To erase the voices, the screams, the cries. To block out the visions of gore that sickened her soul. But her scars reminded her that her past was very much real.

A sleeve can cover the scars, makeup can cover the eye bags, but what is there to cover the past?

Like the scars – it would take a _miracle _to heal.

She bit her lip and glanced down again at her work. With a shaky hand she began to write again.

_Isabella Swan, haunted__**. **_

His smile flashed through her mind, the smile of a killer.

_Isabella Swan, desperate. _

How she tried to claw her way farther from the past. Shred from shred, ripping apart everything. She needed release.

_Isabella Swan, a terribly wonderful liar. _

Her words would never pass for truth, yet no one could see pass her façade. Her eyes tell the greatest of all fibs, even though her lips cannot.

_Isabella Swan, scarred._

Her shattered soul screamed it all.

_Isabella Swan, fragile._

The delicate touch sent shards through the air, exploding with such rage, it could last for eternity.

_Isabella Swan, deathly pale. _

The whitest of skins: the skin of the dead.

_Isabella Swan, clumsy beyond reason. _

Once fallen, one raises and awaits the next blow. A cycle with no escape.

_Isabella Swan, _

She shut her eyes tightly, and inhaled shakily. She opened her eyes again, and pressed the pen harder than she should have.

_Isabella Swan, lonely._

His green eyes suddenly flashed through her mind, releasing an unknown emotion. She was infuriated with herself, and hurled the pen across the room. She stood from her chair angrily, and shoved her assignment in her bag, leaving it unfinished.

She hated times like this. Where she was weak, where she showed vulnerability. She stomped into her bedroom and shut the door with a loud bang.

Unconsciously making the walls of Edward Masen's apartment, shudder and moan.

He stared up at the ceiling, as if daring for it to fall. He glared and threatened it, wanting it to crush his body and take his pathetic life. Though it did not, he felt the blow. The hard twist in his gut and the nudge at his heart. He cringed momentarily then continued his unpacking.

He unpacked clothes. He unpacked his books and music. He unpacked his silverware and dishes. He unpacked his dusty radio, clock, and laptop. In other words, he unpacked a lot of things. Stumbling back and forth from place to place, coughing when dust flew into his face, and gagging when he swallowed it. Kicking a box out of frustration, then hopping on one foot wishing he hadn't. Edward Masen went through a lot of unwanted pain, having to endure it all in silence – for his CD player was yet to be unpacked.

He had a lot of things, for a man who received very little. He supposed he wasn't broke, just not filthy rich as many of his old friends were. That is why; he felt that invisible acceptance when he moved to Forks. Because there, everything was down-sized, squeezed into this tiny, rainy, town of Forks.

The people were quite interesting here. On his browse of the area, he had received many greetings – usually from the young women. There was one, girl, Tanya; he believed was her name, who threw herself at him, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her chest. He paid her no attention, greeting her with the same politeness he maintained with the rest of them. Only once had he snapped.

And that was with that infuriating waitress he had dealt with that morning. How she so rudely denied his inquiry of a simple apology, the way she slammed his coffee on the table, and stomped away.

He fell into his sofa and pondered. Out of the entire woman, he had met today. The brown eyed girl always came to mind. Torturing him with her fire ignited eyes, and her gritted smile. She persisted to pester him even when he left the diner hours and hours ago. Like a disease that is yet to be cured.

_Brown eyed girl…_

The thought kept flashing through his head like a neon sign. Her chocolate eyes with the deepest of purity. Her tangled brown hair framing her face, and her cherry lips.

Inspiration came rushing, the bounds breaking, releasing in into him. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he immediately went in search for his book and pen. He settled on his plastic covered couch and prompted the book in his lip, and began to write.

The words, so it seemed, flowed so easily. Sprawled in his elegant handwriting over the page. He was spurred on by the intensity of her gaze, and the way her words – though angry – flew with such beauty and grace into the air. He wrote words and lines that he did not think he was capable of. He wrote of an emotion he hated. He wrote of the very thing he loathed, and found no interest in.

So why is it then; that he could not stop?

Possibly, it could be hatred he had towards the waitress from earlier, or possibly something more.

He breathed out a sigh, and leaned back, his page only half full. The words still lingered on the edge of his pen, but he thought against it.

He glared down at the words below him, so innocent and beautiful, a contrast to the work he usually submitted. It possessed such elegance; so naïve to what it truly meant.

His gritted his teeth and ripped the page out of the book. With resentment he crumpled the paper and threw it across the room, where it landed sadly on the ground. He glared at it, wanting it to disappear, vanish into thin air so that he may forget this. Forget the words that now played in his head.

He was not one for this, for impolite behaviour. He stood quickly and a sharp pain spread across his back. He groaned and stretched.

His muscles ached from the weight he had been carrying throughout the day. He rolled his shoulders and decided a shower would be best. He pushed himself off the sofa and sauntered off into the bathroom, turning the shower on quickly. Trying to forget the sheet that sat on the ground, tattered and broken.

He stared into the mirror, and winced. He shrugged his clothes off and stepped into the steaming water. He tilted his head back and sighed contently as the hot water soothed his painful muscles. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his shoulders once more. He knew that if he had inquired help from his old friends, maybe even his college roommate, this wouldn't be an issue. But like always, he was as stubborn as a mule.

He wasn't always stubborn though. Perhaps he was morphed into this, but all the same when he was born, he was the most willing and flexible child. But then again, a life like his, you needed to be flexible. You needed to adapt quickly, because if you didn't you'd lose far more than your sanity.

Suddenly his warm shower turned icy cold. And he jumped in surprise.

"What the – "He screamed, angrily, throwing his arms in the air.

"Hell!" Bella Swan screamed and tumbled out of the shower, soaking wet. She took the shower curtain with her, and was a broken mess on the ground.

"Ugh!" She screamed again, and stood furiously. "I _hate _this apartment!" She cursed and shut the shower of with too much power that the knob fell off.

She trudged to her closet and threw on her robe before thrusting her head in the sink to wash off the remaining shampoo. After, she wrapped her hair in a towel and rubbing her face irately with her hand.

It seemed like her neighbour was not having good luck either, because a loud groan filled the room follow by a thump. She sighed and dressed quickly throwing on jeans and a gray t-shirt. She pulled her wet hair up into a ponytail, too lazy to do anything otherwise. She gathered her stuff and threw them into her purse; she grabbed her books, and then slipped on her running shoes. She was out of the door.

She walked to her car, checking her cell phone. Two text messages, one from Alice, inquiring about their plans tomorrow. Another from her mother, she winced and shut her phone quickly. She opened her car door quickly, throwing her bag and books on the seat next to her and backed out of her stall – being extra careful this time.

She took a longer glance over her shoulder before finally backing out slowly. She hated how he had influenced her, but she threw the thought away. She blasted her music loudly – since she recently got her radio fixed.

Just by a single line, the lyrics captured her and stole her from reality. Her incomplete project slipped from her mind as she lost herself in the lyrics, finding herself once more in another world. The song captured her and pulled her towards pointlessness and bliss. Because sometimes we all need that: an escape. Another form of dreams that rip us away from anxiety, pain, and burdens. A place where we are able to float above all reality, and create one of our own. Where we shape this fantasy into our desired perfection. Whether it is simplistic or extravagant, here in their own world, there are no rules.

Her world came to an end as she parked in the lot of the community library. People walking in and out, books carried loyally in their arms. She pulled out her key and hopped out of her red truck, carrying her purse and books with her.

The automatic door made a _whoosh_ sound when they opened for her, and she entered with a soft smile toying on her lips. She walked to the front desk, and handed her books to Leah Clearwater.

"Done already?" Leah raised an eyebrow, and scanned the books.

"My life is uneventful." Bella smiled.

Leah also attended Fork's University, but was studying Humanities and Philosophy. They were close, but never to the extreme of best friends, a greeting and coffee here and there, but that's all it remains to be.

"It's hard to believe coming from a friend of Alice's." Leah laughed and put the books in a nearby bin.

"So what have you been up to lately?" Bella asked politely, while she inspected a stack of books that sat on her counter.

Leah leaned on her hand and huffed. "I swear, Bella, I think God is torturing me."

Bella chuckled and flipped through random pages, reading certain sections. "Well you've never been one for religion."

She groaned and rubbed her neck. "I know! I think that's why he's punishing me."

Bella grinned in a knowing way, and placed the book on the top of the stack.

"It can't be that bad." She insisted and tilted her head to the side as she stared at her tired friend.

"It is," Leah shook her head. "I have been listening to these airheads ranting on and on about some hunk down at the gas station."

"It was the _supermarket_," Jessica corrected, then turned to Bella. "Hey Bella."

"Hi," she replied automatically.

"And his _eyes,_" Lauren gushed, and laughed, standing next to Jessica behind the counter. "The deepest of all green."

"I'm sure." Bella remarked. Leah rolled her eyes at the two and inspected her nails.

"He's so mysterious." Jessica sighed and leaned on her hand, staring off at the far wall. "I bet he has a girlfriend."

"The best ones do," Lauren commented, pouting.

"Swooning at it's worse." Leah said to Bella.

"Swooning?" Bella asked.

"You know, for an English Major, you don't have very good vocabulary, Bella." Leah laughed. "Here," she reached down and snatched up dictionary that sat next to her, flipping through the pages quickly. "Swoon:" She read out loud. "Intransitive verb. To be overwhelmed by happiness, excitement, or infatuation; to experience a sudden and brief loss of consciousness."

She snapped it shut and beamed proudly. "Huh," she remarked. "I never know it could be so dangerous."

"Ever since we received a new shipment of dictionaries, Leah won't shut up." Lauren explained, rolling her blue eyes.

"Blurting out definitions of words I haven't even heard of." Jessica added.

"It's better than hearing you two blab on about how sexy his smile was or – "

"Have you seen him, Bella?" Lauren interrupted her rant.

"Haven't had the honour." Bella forced a smile.

"Shameful," Lauren shook her head.

"Still working on the project Banner assigned?" Jessica inquired. "I heard it was his most frustrating one yet." She scoffed. "I'm so glad I quit the literature field."

"I have yet to see the importance," Bella admitted. "But I suppose it's not completely terrible."

"I admire you," Jessica sighed. "I'd never last through his mindless lectures."

"Well I think it's because–"

"Oh my God!" Lauren cried, and gripped Jessica's arm tightly, her eyes growing wide.

"Oh my God, what?" Jessica asked, and then followed her gaze. "Oh my God!"

There, standing at the entrance, looking confused, stood none other but Edward himself. His bronze hair was messy, and looked like he had just walked out of bed.

"Oh my God," Bella said, connecting the town's heart-throb to the man from earlier events.

Irony never grows old.

"Not you, too!" Leah groaned and rubbed her face in irritation.

"No," Bella corrected, and gritted her teeth. "I _loathe _that man."

"Oh," Leah said. Then placed her hand on her forehead and sighed. "Oh, thank God."

"He almost hit my truck and he wanted _me _to apologize." Bella explained; her eyes narrowing as she watched Lauren and Jessica make their way over to Edward.

"Well, think of it this way," Leah said, putting an arm on Bella's shoulder. "If he did hit your car, it wouldn't have mattered."

Bella glared at her, and she laughed, patting her shoulder. "You're horrible." Bella shook her head.

Lauren and Jessica were chatting happily with Edward, who looked like he was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. His eyes, every so often would drift towards Bella. Their eyes caught more than once, resulting to the reddening of both their cheeks.

She bit her lip and looked away. Leah cocked her head and stared at the confused pair.

"Coffee?" Leah suggested.

Bella nodded, taking one last glance at Edward. "I have to get a book quickly." She muttered. "I'll meet you in my truck."

"I'll meet you in _my_ car." She corrected and bent down to pick up her bag.

Bella began to wander around the library, purposely heading towards the section on the farther side of the library in hope to drown out their loud conversation.

She walked aimlessly through sections, never really committing to a genre. Her taste varied from romance to horror, classics to murder mysteries, never settle upon one as her favourite. But that fit her personality, in technical form at least. Bella Swan is a mix of many things, some good and some bad, but in conclusion, you end up with the most clumsy, and flustered woman.

But like most, that is but a side to her.

She paused in front of a book case and scanned the titles. Words rushing through her mind like a strong current, her eyes skimming book to book. She placed her bag further up her shoulder and traced the books with her fingertips, trying to find a novel for tonight's read.

You would have thought, out of the million books she had options to, she could at least find one. Her eyebrows creased as she realized how pathetic she was being. She instantly took a random book from the shelf and read the summary.

"Forbidden Love?" A voice spoke, making her jump slightly.

She whirled around to find Edward Masen – the man from the diner – staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, unconsciously her heart was beating wildly; she didn't know whether it was due to the surprise, or rather simply seeing him.

"Forbidden Love," He repeated, then gestured to the book. "I never would have pegged you as a romantic type."

"You have no history behind that judgement." She said, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets. "First impressions speak the loudest."

She winced at the mention of it. An almost-car-crash does not leave a good impression with someone. But as she stared into his cocky green eyes, she found that she did not care the slightest.

"I beg to differ." She muttered then placed the book back on the shelf. "But your right, it's too…"

"Obscure?" He suggested.

"Dry." She cracked a smile in spite of herself. "Love stories aren't hard to follow."

"I beg to differ," he said with a smirk, quoting her. "They are the most complex books to read."

"I suppose since you're a male," Bella said, then turned back to the bookshelf. "You'd think that way."

She reached up, unknowingly making her shirt reveal a small part of her back, making Edward's breath catch in his throat. He diverted his eyes quickly, staring at another row of books.

"I don't know how you can put up with it." He commented, gulping the lump in his throat. "The ignorance of the characters. The stupid situations they are put into."

"Right," She muttered but didn't acknowledge him any further.

"But," He continued, grinning at her back. "What I find most repetitive are the endings."

"And what gives you that opinion?" She murmured, and plucked out another book.

"They live happily ever after."

She turned and faced him, searching his face. "Not all stories end that way."

"Enough do," He looked at the shelf above her head. "Life isn't perfect, so why write a book that is?"

Numerous answers flooded Bella's mind, but she bit her lip. Her nerves were being jumbled, and she gripped the book tightly in her hand. Why, oh why, was he torturing her?

"I suppose then," She gritted her teeth. "That's why it's called _fiction._"

"You're a very angry person aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes.

"No," She placed the book on the shelf angrily and stomped off. "Just stubborn."

She exited the library quickly, fuming. This _man_ – no _critic _refuses to let go of her. Even when she is not in his presence his voice is a constant annoyance in her head. There are some things that just latch onto you, like a venom you cannot shake off.

She spotted Leah sitting in her car, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. Her eyes met Bella's, and she gestured her over. Bella looked over her shoulder, and to her dismay, found that Edward was following her.

"What do you want!?" She hissed as he approached.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes digging holes into hers. She found herself wanting to look away, but then realizing she couldn't. His blank gaze bore into her, penetrating her very being. She waited for his snappy comeback, his reflex, and natural ability to make her feel lesser. He said nothing, though, remaining quiet.

He then walked passed her, deliberately brushing his shoulder against hers. In silence he moved passed her, and entered his car which was parked neatly behind her.

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and she suddenly felt like crawling into a dark hole. She bit her lip, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she fought against it. She made her way over to Leah, and slid into the passenger seat without a word.

She watched as Edward pulled out of the lot, and disappeared into the streets of Forks, unknowingly taking her thoughts with him. Guilt, you know, is a horrid thing to experience. The impact of a moment able to manipulate your thoughts on to something that is unalterable.

"You know," Leah commented, and began to back out of her parking spot. "I don't need a dictionary to figure out what's going on between the two of you."

Bella refused to say anything, glaring out the window.

"You," Leah grinned widely, catching her eye. "Are so swoony."

Meanwhile, Edward Masen continued to his apartment, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He tried to focus on the weather, perhaps the patterns from the rain. But there is one thing in life you can never gain control of: your thoughts.

And so, he found himself thinking of the one thing he refused to think about. The churning in his stomach confirmed it.

He threw his car door open and made his way to his apartment. He wondered why he reacts this way, why he is so frustrated. And why, his heart refuses to slow. He opened the door to his home quickly, locking it in the same manner.

He looked around, taking in all the boxes and dust. He ran his fingers through his hair and made his way into the living room. He paused there, frozen in his spot. His eyes gazing over towards the crumpled paper sitting against the wall.

He walked over to it slowly, acting as if it was a bomb. His footsteps making the squeak of a mouse, his breath held in his throat. He hesitantly reached down, feeling the texture of the paper, and then gathered into it into his hand. He held it as if it was poison.

Slowly, he began to smooth it out, revealing the words he wrote earlier.

Sitting down at his table, taking his pen and placing it on the paper. Her voice, yet again entwined within his mind, and he found himself lost in the pool of the unknown. Devouring him and enveloping him with an unfamiliar tinge. But there was one thing that he could never shake away. One prominent feature to the loving face.

And so, repulsed yet secretly at ease, he began to write.

**AN: You have no idea how much I hate this chapter. But I need it because it's a base to the following chapter. I refuse, though, to turn Lauren and Jessica into superficial bitches like they are in many stories. **

**Song for this chapter: The Dutch Courage – The Spill Canvas  
**_"Paranoia is hunting you and all these dirty looks, they are right on cue. You're full up to the brim with that he said she said trash. You exist behind your keyboard then you're gone in a flash."_

**You know whats really funny? I entered this Epic T Rated Contest thing, and I wrote this epic one-shot, then I forgot to tell my readers. It literally slipped my mind, and uh, I THINK, voting is over? I'm not quite sure actually. Oh well, I didnt do it to win anyways. But its worth checking out. Its called _My Beautiful Abnormality. _**

**In conclusion, I am solemnly grateful for all the reviews, I appreciate all the support. **


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